[private] at the barricades

[litotes]

boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.

Loess feels just as welcoming as when he once belonged to it. While the Archon knows that the Cove is not pleased with Castile, he still waltzes into the land as if it is his roam. Litotes believes Castile to be a friend, regardless of the Queen’s feelings. In fact, he might even congratulate the dragon for his successful kidnapping of Oriash. He bears no ill will to the child; instead, he finds the trivialities of their politics to be amusing.

As much as he does miss the comfort of the highlands, Lie is not sure he would return. While the camaraderie he felt was soothing, he longs to build his own world in Pangea. His tail is loud when he slaps it against his hocks in irritation - perhaps his plans will align with Ilma’s desires, though he does not see himself bending to her will. Sitting upon her council is one thing, while molding the culture of his territory to her ideas is entirely another.

Litotes’ goal is to seek out Castile and discuss Tephra, but he quickly stumbles upon a familiar face. The eager pegasus he remembers from his brief time as Marauder is a pale blip amongst the bland brown and yellow of his home. The dusty ground crunches beneath his hooves when he comes to a stop. He notes the impossibly tall ferns and the trickling creek just beyond the boy. These observatory precautions are unnecessary, he thinks, but he cannot kick his suspicious nature.

“Pteron!” The winds shifts the wild ferns when Lie calls, his voice mingling well with the hiss of their rustling. Winter is bitter and cruel in Loess - cool goosebumps raise his still plague-weakened coat. “You’ve gotten bigger since I last saw you,” he muses, a statement that might have been patronizing if he was not sincerely impressed with the young man’s growth. “Is Loess still treating you well?”

and if i fall would you know that to do?
and if i'm caught up would you stay?

Litotes

@[Pteron] i'm imagining he sees him right before he visits with castile :3

[Pteron]

Resting amid the ferns has become something of a habit for the young stallion, but the crunch of hooves on frozen earth brings a quick end to his morning doze. He doesn’t fade from sight upon waking this time, but rather holds tight to his visibility. Though Pteron is no longer a danger-wary colt, a willing embrace of vulnerability is still contrary to his equine nature. Between the curled fronds he can make out a pale face, and as he pushes through the greenery the figure of Litotes comes into view.

Pteron finds they are eye-level just as the cremello stallion point out his growth, a coincidence that tugs up the edges of his mouth in amusement.

“I’d hope so,” he replies in a soft tenor voice that has only recently stopped quivering with adolescence. “For a while I was worried I’d end up with my mother’s height.” There is nothing wrong with Lepis’ height, of course, but Pteron dreams of a warrior’s life and there are few tales of great ponies. He’d ended up surpassing his father in the end, though he favors his dam still in his coblike build.  He has growing to do yet, but he is still pleased to find that he can stand eye-to-eye with a man he had once considered impossibly tall.

When Litotes asks if Loess still treats him well, Pteron bobs his blue muzzle agreeably. “It is. Castile even promoted me in the diplomatic ranks recently. But not in the warrior ranks yet, though.” There is a definite tone of regret in his last statement. Pteron might look nearly grown – and at almost three he is certainly considered an adult – but his experience with battle is narrow. Bouts with his father (and less frequently his mother) are all well and good, but he knows he needs something broader.

He’s considered issuing a challenge, but is not entirely certain to whom. His mind had lingered on the violet-eyed boy from the Cove and the Hyaline girl with the shifting coat, but neither had struck him as warriors. He doesn't want to fight them even, he knows, he simply wants to see them again. Castile is out of the question (Pteron knows his limits), and so Pteron occupies himself with patrols and building up his endurance in hopes that this will help him in the future.

@[Litotes]

[litotes]

boy what's normal to you? 'cause that sure ain't normal to me.

Litotes’ eyes drift over Pteron’s maturing face. He studies the lines and angles that are beginning to truly take their place. A formidable young man, he thinks, with an admirable ambition. The Archon rarely finds it within himself to be meek these days, but there is something about the young warrior before him that instills a certain humbleness. Simple, quick beginnings - that is it, he reminds Lie of his own eager start. For a moment, he prays that the pegasus’ pages do not turn as his have.

There is an air of surprise when the cremello’s companion mentions not moving up in the soldier’s ranks. Pteron is a stallion of promise; if Litotes did not like Castile so much, he might even ask him to come to Pangea.

“Not an official warrior yet, huh?” he murmurs, rolling his eyes to the swishing of the foliage in the cold wind. “I am certain that will change soon.” Litotes grins, then quips, “Have you not yet mocked? Surely someone in Loess is interested?” There is a mild pause, a quick silence, where the cremello wonders what the representatives of his once-home are up to. With the scent of war on the wind, he thinks they should be preparing. At least, that is what he has come to speak to Castile about: what sides are going to tear Beqanna in two, and what the dragon-king plans to do about it.

“You know, Pteron . . .” his eyes roll back to the tobiano’s, “there is talk of war to be waged on Loess. Best to be prepared, yes? And perhaps I can show Loess the good faith of Pangea with a friendly mock?” Lie smiles, topaz eyes glittering with his hints. “Good diplomatic relations . . . and we can both get some practice. I have not battled in some time.”

and if i fall would you know that to do?
and if i'm caught up would you stay?

Litotes

@[Pteron]

[Pteron]

The dun stallion nods eagerly at Litotes certainty. He values the opinion of the former Marauder despite the fact that the older stallion has left Loess for Pangea.

“Just with my parents,” Pteron answers. “I wasn’t sure if I was ready for a real mock battle.” Even as he says it, the excuse sounds silly. A real mock? When a mock is not even a real battle? Perhaps he has simply been reluctant to test his own mettle, to see how he might stand against a warrior that is less inclined to coddle him than his mother and father. They do not do so, of course, and truly consider him skilled, but with no evidence otherwise Pteron leans toward doubt.

There is clearly something else on the cremello stallion’s mind and so Pteron remains quiet a moment longer, allowing him to speak. Litotes mentions war, and Pteron’s blue-tipped ears flick forward. He’d heard it only in hushed whispers before; to be told directly is unexpected. The idea of war fades in the shadow of the Archon’s offer to mock, and Pteron stands a bit taller in anticipation.

“I’d like that.” he replies without hesitation. And then, with a quick grin because they both know Litotes would be the victor, adds: “I promise to take it easy on you.”


@[Litotes]